Sig Christenson: Conscience is his guide

James Maher served in the Air Force during a time when its Security Forces were called “security police.” His active-duty career ran four years, from 1991 to 1995.

That would have been quite enough for some people. Do your duty, serve honorably and then move back into civilian life, building families, careers and communities.

But it was not enough for Maher.

Think of him as a guy with a guilt complex. Or, perhaps more to the point, a man with a conscience, the kind of fellow who wonders if he has done enough long after he has done more than most.

Maher was 35 when we met last September at Joint Base Balad, and still a specialist.

That doesn’t mean he’s a failure. The one place you tend to find low-ranking people that age is in the National Guard or the Reserves. Those folks tend to have more skills, education and experience than the typical active-duty specialist, which is why military reporters spend a lot of time with part-time troops. They have good stories to tell.

A Bexar County sheriff’s deputy, Maher taught a combat medic training course at Camp Bullis and knew that about six in every 10 of those in his classes were headed to the war zone. Feeling the tug of duty, he joined the Texas Guard a year ago as Maj. Carlos Tamez, commander of Charlie Company, 2-149 General Support Aviation, was putting together a group of medical evacuation crews that are now flying throughout Iraq.

The guard had four flight medic slots and Maher wanted one of them. It allowed him to prepare for a similar job back home, one he really wants to do, and serve his country.

“The main reason, I’ll tell you, I watched as the planes hit the towers,” he said of 9-11. “I swore that if something major ever happened again and I could make a difference …”

There’s more to that story, of course, but what Maher didn’t say was that he already was making a difference. He was a go-getter of a sheriff’s deputy , always prowling for action when detailed to the department’s southeast patrol station. In his first year on the street, he seized just under a quarter pound of crystal meth while making a traffic stop on U.S. 281.

It’s a victory Maher still relishes.

“That’s what you want to do. I’m out there looking for the dope, the gang bangers, the guns.” he said.

Maher will tell you that not every cop is like that. “You hear about those patrolmen who are at Luby’s 2, 2 1/2 hours and don’t answer the radio. I don’t want to do that. You’ve got to go out there and work and show some productivity, to try to find some drugs.”

Some of this goes back to his days in the old security police. Maher has been a cop somewhere since he was 18. He’s worked an area off Walzem east of Interstate 35 known for its shootings, drug and gang problems, and while he denies wanting action he does want to do something. Ultimately, Maher said, “I want to make a difference.”

I believe him. But you don’t come to Iraq looking for rest and recreation, so I’d bet that he also likes the action, as well as the chance to do some good, to make a difference.

But there’s that guilt thing again, and you wonder if it is in play as well. Maher talked of wanting to return to Camp Bullis when his tour ends in Iraq, of having real bona fides with the young medics he encounters, a chance of saying that those who do, teach.

“I couldn’t just sit there and tell my students, ‘This is how it’s done,'” he said. “This was my opportunity to do something about it.”